Not Famous
by Enthusiastic Fish
Summary: NFA Hangman prize. Tim has to stay with Ducky for a few days and discovers a few things about Ducky...and himself. Oneshot.


**A/N:** Just a oneshot written as a prize for the NFA Hangman game. Tim and Ducky get to talk. I was inspired by my own bizarre cold which hit me a couple of weeks ago. Yes, I get inspired by strange things. Not much plot, just a snippet of life, I guess.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own NCIS. Never have. Never will. I'm not making any money off this story.

* * *

**Not Famous  
**by Enthusiastic Fish

"_I handle fame by not being famous...I'm not famous to me."  
__~Bob Marley_

Tim awoke with the feeling of near certainty that illness was just around the corner. Hopefully, it wasn't going to be a serious illness, but it was enough that he felt that today was going to drag on.

With a yawn, he pulled himself out of bed and got ready for the day. When he came out into the main room, Jethro greeted him with his usual exuberance. Tim smiled and shook his head.

"Get the energy out while you can, Jethro. I've got a feeling that I'm not going to be great company soon enough.

Jethro jumped around and grabbed his leash.

"Right. Time to go out."

Tim let Jethro drag him to the door, but when he opened it, he was surprised to see a notice tacked to it.

_To all tenants:_

_Please be advised that, due to the recent infestation in two of the apartments, the entire building will be fumigated beginning tomorrow morning. Please make alternate arrangements for the next five days while the fumigation team comes in. We recognize that this is an inconvenience, but due to the serious problem, it is a necessity. We have included instructions provided by the fumigation company as to how best to prepare your apartment for the fumigation. Following the general fumigation, room-by-room pesticides will be distributed. The estimated return date is Monday, December 6. A hotline will be set up by Saturday, December 4 for tenants to call and be notified of any delay._

_Again, we apologize for the inconvenience and thank you for your cooperation._

_Management_

Tim groaned. Perfect. Just perfect. That's what he needed to make his week wonderful.

"Well, Jethro, guess we're going for a surprise trip starting tomorrow."

He had heard about the infested apartments. The tenants had been evicted after repeated complaints from their neighbors had not brought about any change. Five days. That would not be pleasant for his wallet...nor would it be pleasant for him with his threatening illness. As he took Jethro out for his morning walk, he considered the possibility of staying with one of his friends during the fumigation. He could ask, he knew. If it was possible, any of them would be willing. ...but he didn't think that he could handle staying with Tony for a week. He'd never dare ask Gibbs, unless he was dying. Asking Ziva would just be weird. That left Ducky, Jimmy and Abby. ...but wait, Abby was being overrun by her brother this week. That wouldn't work. Jimmy's apartment was smaller than Tim's was and he was swamped with his residency _and_ working with Ducky. Tim knew that Jimmy was swiftly coming to the end of his time as a med student and was bucking for a position as Ducky's official assistant. Jimmy didn't need to be tripping over someone sleeping on his floor. However, to be honest, he didn't dare ask Ducky. He liked Ducky and considered the ME a friend...but not the kind of friend he'd impose on in this situation. That meant a hotel. Hopefully, he could find one that took pets.

Tim sighed. What an annoyance.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim felt pretty miserable by the end of the day. It wasn't a serious illness, but he was pretty sure that he was developing a fever. His head was starting to feel stuffed up. A perfect end to a perfect day.

The only problem was that the day wasn't ending just yet. Gibbs was keeping them late, not for a case this time, but for their delinquency in turning in reports on their last case. After getting annoyed at them for the delay, he had finally said that none of them were leaving until he had their reports in his hands.

"Aha! Done!" Tony said triumphantly and took his newly-printed report to Gibbs' desk. "Can I go now, el Jefe?"

Gibbs picked up the pages, skimmed through them and then nodded grudgingly.

"Go."

Tony didn't need telling twice. He was out before Gibbs could change his mind. Ziva finished a few minutes later and then it was only Tim with Gibbs' baleful glare to keep him company. He redoubled his efforts, wanting to get out of here, back to his apartment to gather up his things and then get to a hotel. He'd been kept so busy today that he hadn't had time to look for someplace to stay.

Suddenly, his nose started itching. Before he could stop it, he sneezed. Loudly. Gibbs looked over at him as Tim grabbed a tissue.

"Sorry, Boss," he said.

"You finished, McGee?"

"Just about."

"Hurry it up."

"Yes, Boss."

It only took another ten minutes to finish up. Then, he printed it off, handed his report off to Gibbs...and sneezed again.

"Gesundheit!" Ducky said as he got off the elevator.

"Thanks, Ducky," Tim said and then sneezed again. "Can I go, Boss?"

"Go."

Relieved, Tim headed back to his desk, grabbed his bag and hurried to leave.

"Timothy, would you mind holding the elevator?" Ducky asked.

Tim nodded and obligingly put his hand between the doors. Ducky hopped on and nodded his thanks. Tim smiled back...and sneezed yet again.

"Gesundheit once more, Timothy," Ducky said. "Coming down with a cold, are we?"

"Yeah. I think so. Perfect timing, too."

"Why is that?"

"My apartment building is being fumigated starting tomorrow."

"Ah, I hope you've found somewhere to stay?"

Tim considered confessing that he didn't just yet, but he was sure he would as soon as he could get home.

"Um...Yeah. It's a pain, but I've got it covered."

"That's good. If you find that you are in need, my home is open."

"Thanks, Ducky. I appreciate that."

"Make sure you get some rest. That will help your illness more than anything else."

"Good plan...once it's the weekend."

"Ah, but if you push yourself too much early on, you're much more likely to have a longer illness. Keep that in mind."

"Will do." Tim smiled once more and headed off to his car.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"This is ridiculous, Jethro," Tim said. He rubbed at his head and closed his eyes tightly. A headache had developed right in the center of his forehead. "I'm not seeing anything that has a reasonable price for the next five days. Over 100 bucks a night. ...but I'm not going to save anything by putting you in a kennel for five days. What are we going to do?"

Jethro barked helpfully at him.

Tim sniffed.

"Yeah, I know. Ducky did say I was welcome. ...but I'm sick!"

Jethro barked again.

Tim sighed.

"I know. You're right." He pulled out his phone and dialed Ducky's number. "Hey, Ducky?"

"_Hello, Timothy."_

"Hi."

"_Are you calling for a reason?"_

"Yeah. I need a...a..."

"_Place to stay while your apartment is fumigated?"_

"Yeah. How did you guess?"

"_I suspected you were hedging this evening. I am more than willing to open my home to you. You needn't feel as though you have to pretend."_

"I know. I just...didn't want to impose."

"_You wouldn't be imposing at all. Please, my home is open."_

"You sure?"

"_Positive, Timothy. I would not have offered if I hadn't been sincere."_

"Okay. Thanks, Ducky."

"_When will you be coming?"_

"As soon as I've packed. Jethro can come, too, right?"

"_Of course."_

"Thanks, Ducky. I really appreciate it. I'll try not to be in the way."

"_Oh, don't worry about that, lad. You're welcome and you won't be in the way at all."_

"Okay. I'll be right over."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Ducky fussed over Tim when he arrived and got him into a bed, telling him that he needed to sleep. Tim didn't protest...or at least not very much. He agreed and fell asleep very quickly.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Timothy, your alarm is still blaring. I believe it would be time for you to get up."

Tim opened his eyes and groaned.

"It's not morning already, is it?"

"I'm afraid so, Timothy."

Tim closed his eyes and groaned again...and then sneezed.

Then, he was startled by a hand on his forehead. Tim opened his eyes and pulled back.

"Ducky, what are you doing?"

"You have a fever, Timothy."

Tim sneezed again. "It's not that bad. I've been worse. It's just a cold."

"Perhaps, but you are not going to work today."

"What?" Tim shook his head. "No, Ducky. I'm perfectly able to go to work." He threw off the blankets. "I was just moaning. I'm not that sick."

Ducky stared at him with a smile. "Now, Timothy, be honest. Do you _want_ to go to work today?"

"Well...no, but that's not the issue. This is my job."

"It _is_ the issue, Timothy. You will only wear yourself out if you insist on working through your cold."

"It's almost the weekend."

"But it is not yet the weekend and you'll only make things worse. Besides, you run the risk of infecting your coworkers if you insist on going to work now."

"People don't miss work because of a cold, Ducky," Tim said and sneezed...twice.

"I know, and they speak of it as if it is a good thing. If you're worried about what Jethro will think, I'll tell him that I insisted you stay home."

Tim smiled. "Ducky..."

"You have willingly put yourself in my path, Timothy. You will suffer the consequences...by staying in bed."

Tim laughed and then fell back against the pillow. "Okay, okay. You win."

"Of course. Sleep. That's an order."

Tim sighed. "That's an order I think I can obey."

"Good."

Tim closed his eyes and slept the day away. The next morning Ducky again forbade Tim to go to work and Tim decided not to protest. He hadn't heard anything from anyone so he counted it as a good thing. On Saturday, he discovered that he was starting to feel better and actually got out of bed. He wandered into the main room and found Ducky's TV. He spent the rest of the day flipping through channels, something he really hadn't done in ages. He couldn't remember the last time he'd just been able to sit around. Since his typewriter was in his apartment, he couldn't even type.

On Sunday, went out during the day to meet with friends of his. Tim went into the study and began looking through the books on Ducky's shelves...with his permission, of course. He couldn't believe how many old editions Ducky owned. Then, he noticed a copy of his own _Deep Six_ was sitting on a shelf beside a very odd assortment of books. He pulled one off and opened the cover. It was _Of Mice and Men_.

_To Donald Mallard, a true storyteller_

It was signed _John Steinbeck_.

"Whoa. Ducky met John Steinbeck? How?" Tim whispered.

Intrigued, he began looking at the rest of the books on the shelf. Langston Hughes. H. G. Wells. George Bernard Shaw. Ezra Pound. T. S. Eliot. Edgar Rice Burroughs. They were all signed with personal notes. Nothing particularly over-awing about them, but it was clear that Ducky had met each one of them, if only long enough to get them to sign a book. ...and then, Tim's own meager offering was sitting along side these great authors' works. Tim was both flattered and embarrassed. While he was still pleased that his book had been published and become popular, he knew it was no great work of fiction. It was a fad that would fade in a couple of years and be forgotten. It had happened to too many authors for it to be a surprise.

He pulled _Deep Six_ off the shelf thinking that he could perhaps shift it away from the strange place Ducky had put it. Maybe it was a mistake. That's it. It must just be that Ducky had meant to put it somewhere else and set it next to these books which obviously occupied a place of honor within the study.

"I believe you are already familiar with that particular tome, Timothy," Ducky said from behind him.

Tim jumped and turned around.

"Ducky! I didn't hear the door."

"You must have been distracted. How are you feeling?"

"Much better," he said...and then sneezed.

Ducky laughed.

"Honest, Ducky. That's the first time in over an hour."

"I believe you."

Tim looked at _Deep Six_ and then up at Ducky.

"What's wrong, lad?"

"Ducky..." Tim stopped unsure of how to phrase his question. "...I was looking at your books. How did you meet all these authors?"

Ducky walked over to the shelf and smiled. "Oh, when I was younger I had a burning desire to meet authors of every walk of life. I wanted to somehow soak up their knowledge and skills. I made a point of trying to get their signatures on any book I owned. These are simply those few with whom I succeeded."

"It's amazing. All these classic stories...and you met the authors!"

"Yes, it's true. I do feel privileged to have done so."

"So...why do you have _Deep Six_ there? It's not anything great."

Ducky now looked at Tim with surprise. "Do you think that I picked these men because I thought what they wrote was wonderful? I didn't know they would be classics when I chose to ask for their signatures on stories I had read."

"But they are now."

"Certainly...and I agree that they had great skill in writing." Ducky held out his hand for _Deep Six_. Tim handed it over and watched as Ducky replaced it on the shelf. "I include the work of those men and women I have been privileged to meet. In your case, I feel privileged that I have had the opportunity to know you and, if I may flatter myself, to consider myself your friend. That makes this novel eminently worthy of sitting on this shelf. Who knows? Perhaps it will, by some quirk of fate, stand the test of time."

"It won't."

Ducky smiled. "Likely not, but I would wager that many of the classics we so admire today were written by people who had no thought of them lasting beyond their lifetime."

Tim looked at the shelf for a long moment. "Ducky?"

"Yes, lad?"

"I never signed it."

"True. The opportunity has never arisen. I felt that you would rather avoid drawing attention to your novel at work."

"I appreciate that."

"Perhaps you would honor me with an autograph now?"

Tim smiled. "I would love to."

Ducky pulled the book off the shelf and handed it to Tim. He took it to the desk and then paused.

"I don't know what to write," he admitted sheepishly.

"I don't expect Shakespeare, Timothy. You may simply sign your name if it would be easier."

Tim smiled and then looked at the empty page, waiting to be corrupted by ink. Then, he began to write. It was short and he finished it with his name. Then, he gave it back to Ducky who opened the cover and read it aloud.

"'To Ducky, a true friend and the most intelligent man I've known. Thom E. Gemcity.' I'm flattered."

"So am I."

"Will you be returning to your home tomorrow?"

"According to the hotline," Tim said. "Everything is on schedule."

"That is excellent. I will even let you return to work tomorrow."

"Thanks, Ducky. ...for everything."

"Anytime, lad. Anytime."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

_Monday..._

"I hear you spent the weekend at Ducky's," Tony said with an evil grin. "How were the good doctor's ministrations?"

Tim sniffed a little bit as he took his seat at his computer. He thought about the last few days, so simple and so unimportant in the long run...but so meaningful to him now.

"It could have been worse, Tony," Tim said. "It could have been worse."

FINIS!


End file.
